


bring me back, bring me home

by kuro49



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Every fairy tale has a happily ever after, every story has an end. Theirs is one and the same.





	bring me back, bring me home

**Author's Note:**

> i don't make the rules but nobody romance me unless you have hard boiled eggs.

She comes to, eyes opening in slits then wider.

All her life, she is filling in the missing spaces with every sign she forms with her hands, pushing pieces of herself into a world with no room for her.

She cannot remember when she comes to realize this but it has been a long time now. Realization settling into just another fact of life. People can look but they are not seeing and people can hear but they are not really listening. In the very same way, they can talk but she finds that they are not really saying anything at all.

Eliza comes to, in the warm embrace of the water pushing her gently out of her skin. She is looking and everything she sees is _him_.

 

She meets him with glass and murky water in between (he meets her and fear is not the first instinct to surface). She thinks of him while he thinks of nothing but her.

 

Understanding comes settling into her through the little crevices, and she feels like a hard-boiled egg with a cracking seam right down the center. She belongs on steady ground but she belongs with him more. She sees him out of her tub, he sees her going out into the night, and they both notice the scales shedding from his body. She fills his plate and tries not to cry because he has enough salt to his saline water already.

When the rain begins to fall, she is not ready. She doubts she would ever be but all the good, precious things in this life must come to an end.

She looks her fill. She touches with her fingertips tracing the iridescent blue fluttering just beneath until he feels like he could burst from his skin from the anticipation alone. She may be kissing a god but this is not worship or blind faith even if he is looking at her like he is just about to get on his knees. They find little need for words when he is murmuring blessings across the flesh of her shoulder with a caress.

 

They take the time they do not have, his mouth against hers.

It might be love in its most lovely form.

 

Eliza opens her eyes within the depths and all she can see is him. He fills her with a sense of belonging, the shimmering blue migrating slow, washing over her with warmth she feels in every molecule of her body.

She returns to the water where she was born, she finds herself coming home from a long journey. He pulls her to him until acceptance is the only thing that remains between them. His fingernail traces her name across her back and if he speaks, it would be a mantra.

When she breathes in, water fills her lungs. 

 

 

He takes her to his home in the Amazon rivers.

The journey is long, but they take their time. Unlike the half an hour lunch breaks in the middle of the night, there is no record player, but they can still hear the music. He teaches her to ride along the currents and she teaches him the names of things he has known all his life with the motion of her hands. He shows her his home like she has done. Here, they have time and when she breathes out in time with him, bubbles surround them.

Every fairy tale has a happily ever after, every story has an end. Theirs is one and the same.

 


End file.
